The Greatest Thing You'll Ever Learn
by IrishRavenX
Summary: Christian James has finally managed to move on with his life. Moving to the English country side, he becomes a music teacher. But Christain is only one of the many seeking refuge there. ((I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaaack))
1. Default Chapter

Author: SirBalin'sMistress (formerly known as IrishRavenX)  
  
Title: The Greatest Thing you'll ever learn.  
  
Dislclaimer: Not mine. Just playing in Baz's sandbox. I am getting no money from this story; I have no money, and won't be getting any money in the foreseeable future. So suing me would be a BIG waste of time.  
  
Author's Note: Yeah, yeah. This is an overused plot, but please bear with me. I'll attempt to create a twist, but without some feedback, I won't know how I'm doing.  
  
Feedback: Yes, please. But if you just want to curse at me for using a same old plot, I have an e-mail you can use. IrishRavenX@hotmail.com. I don't post regularly, 'cause I'm usually somewhere else rather than home, or near a computer. (A different country, for example)  
  
And now, on with the feature presentation.  
  
The Greatest Thing You'll Ever Learn. Chapter 1  
  
"Last stop coming up, ladies and gentlemen!"  
  
The conductor walked down the aisle, and glanced at one of the few passengers left on the train, a man, desolately staring out the window. He was unshaven, with wild, dark brown, almost black hair. He was well dressed, in a suit, though it was wrinkled, adding to the man's seemingly disheveled look.  
  
"We're coming up on the last stop in the next few minutes, sir," the conductor said to him, making sure he had heard.  
  
The man turned to look at him, and the conductor was taken aback by the look on his face. The young man's eyes were haunted orbs, the sea-bluish- green as turbulent as the ocean. Despite the man's young look, he seemed far older than his years.  
  
"Thank you," the man said in an accent, which the conductor could not easily identify. The conductor gave him a sympathetic nod, and continued to make his way down the aisle.  
  
Christian James turned back to the window, watching as the English countryside passed by, lost in thought. Eight years had passed by since his life had been torn apart. Eight years, 10 months, and 24 days. He'd lost track of the hours. Eight years since his one and only love had died. It seemed very, very long ago now.though sometimes the fateful day was so clear in his mind, it felt like it was only yesterday. People told him to move on...not to waste his youth. But no matter how many times he told him self to just get on with his life..something always reminded him of her, and sent him careening back to his dreary way of life, and bottle of Absenthine. Now...now he had gotten his act, so to speak, back together. He had made enough money to live comfortable off the books of poetry he had written, and would soon have a steady job. Christian didn't have to work. He had enough money to sustain himself, but hours without anything to keep his mind from wandering would soon prove critical to his health. Too much time to think..to think about what he had lost---to think about her. His dear Satine.  
  
Christian shook his head, as if to clear the thought from his head. He needed to focus on the future. He had a new life to look forward to, a new life of teaching the next generation. Christian had gotten a job at a school on the outskirts of London. And there was no better place to be unable to hear yourself think than a school. The Jean-Francis School of Music and learning. Kindergarten through 12th grade students. And they were in need of a music teacher. It wasn't the most glorifying job, but it was something he wished to do. If it didn't work out, it wouldn't cost him anything.  
  
I needed to get out of Paris anyway. he thought wryly.  
  
Being so near the Moulin Rouge seemed to make his depression worse. He would have moved farther away...maybe to America--- but he never did. Although he couldn't stand being near the Moulin Rouge...he couldn't stand being too far away from the dreaded place either. Christian looked down at the leather book bound on top of his luggage on the seat beside him, and a slight smile played across his features. Five years ago, he had gotten it published. Their story. Her story. Satine may have died, but now she would live on forever, and even if it was only on paper.it was the least he could do for her.  
  
"Last stop!!!"  
  
Christian looked up at the conductor, who was making his rounds again, then out the window. Back in England. Back in the real world. It was time to start over. Start his life anew. No more sulking. No more drinking. A normal life....  
  
Christian picked up his bag, slung it over his shoulder, and with his prized book in hand, stepped off the train.  
  
~*~  
  
"Katherine S. James, get in her this minute!"  
  
Marie Zidler stood in the doorway of the large mansion estate with her arms crossed, observing the young girl sitting in the mud.  
  
"But Nana!" Kait protested, a pout forming on her face, "I haven't finished burying Monsieur Fluffy yet!"  
  
"No But's, Katherine. Come out of that mess and get cleaned up for bed!" Marie called.  
  
Kait's 'deceased' pet rock would have to have its funeral postponed. With a sigh of defeat, Kait got up from the mud and walked inside.  
  
"Now take off your shoes and go upstairs. Lauren is pouring your bath now."  
  
"Yes Nana," Kait sighed in defeat. She trudged up the stairs as noisily as possible, dragging Rosco, her stuffed dog behind her.  
  
Harry Zidler watched with amusement as the young Raven-haired girl with a muddied lace dress stomped up the stairs as she usually did when she didn't get her way.  
  
"What's wrong, my little song bird?" Harry asked.  
  
Kait's beautiful changing sea-blue eyes met his curious look, still pouting.  
  
"Aunt Marie won't let me finish giving Monsieur Fluffy a proper burial," Kait said, her beautiful blue eyes focusing on the floor. Her eyes were beautiful, and seemed to change like the sea. Some times cool and smooth, a dark blue, or could suddenly turn greenish blue with fury like the violent ocean storm.  
  
"Don't pout over that, little chickpea," Harry said perkily, "You can bury him tomorrow after school! I'll even help with the service if you'd like. And maybe bring a nice box to put him in. That ground in awfully cold."  
  
Kait gave him an odd look, and giggled. She wasn't such a small little girl any more, but still imaginative.  
  
"He's dead, silly. He can't tell if it's cold or not!"  
  
"Well excuse me," Harry said with mock indignance, "I forgot you were the smartest little girl in the world,"  
  
"Well don't you forget it again, papa!" Kait giggled. He scooped her up and twirled her around in the air, and she squealed in delight. Harry placed her back on her feet, and she gave him a peck on the cheek.  
  
"Goodnight grandpapa!"  
  
"Good-night, chickpea,"  
  
Kait skipped the rest of the way to her room humming happily.  
  
"I don't know how you do it. She can be in the foulest mood for hours, and after talking to you for two minutes, she's the happiest little girl in the world." Marie said with a sigh.  
  
"I'm just good with children," Harry said proudly.  
  
"Well then, you won't mind babysitting Kait's late pet rock for awhile, eh?" Marie asked wryly, slapping the muddied rock with a smiley face drawn on it into Zidler's hand. Harry smiled.  
  
Kait could act very mature, and much older than her years, but things like this reminded him that she really was only 8-years old, and a very imaginative 8-year old at that.  
  
Marie smiled and walked off, leaving Harry standing in the hall. He began to walk towards his study, but the soft and beautiful sound of Kait's voice echoed down the hall, making Harry's eyes cloud over in memory and sadness. The little seven-year old girl---her mother's daughter, indefinitely. She had Satine's eyes, she had her face---and most of all, she had her voice.  
  
"One day I'll fly away...leave all this to yesterday...why live life from dream to dream...and dread the day...when dreaming ends.One day I'll fly away...fly..fly...away...." ***  
  
Chocolat walked up the stairs of the Mansion to find Monsieur Zidler standing in the middle of the hall, staring blankly down the corridor. The last notes of Kait's song drifted down, and Chocolat stopped a few steps behind him. Little Kait hadn't know her mother, or her father, and no one had ever told her of the story behind it all.but some how she knew more than any one had told her. It was just passed off as a coincidence.  
  
She probably remembered some of the Moulin Rouge before Harry and Marie, and a the few others of the staff who were still there, packed up and came to London, moving into the large Mansion. They all lead normal lives, some had gotten married, and most of them lived in this little town. Anyone who had seen them before at the Moulin Rouge probably wouldn't recognize them without all the silly costumes and make-up; but they would suffer from an acute plague of de ja vu while they stayed around.  
  
It had taken a lot to fix up the estate they had moved onto, which had been in ruins, but now everyone there had a stable job, either as servants for the Zidlers, or in town. Harry had some how come into a very large sum of money, and now had little need to work. There was a quiet rumor that he had millions of dollars from the Moulin Rouge, that none of them ever saw.but it was only a rumor.any way, he supported everyone, and that's all they asked for. Harry didn't move for a long time, just staring down the hallway.  
  
"She is so much like her mother," Chocolat said softly, bringing Zidler out of his trance.  
  
"If only Satine was around to see her now. She would be so proud of her little girl..."  
  
At that, Zidler turned and walked past Chocolat, towards the West wing of the estate to watch the sunset, as he did every evening.  
  
~*~  
  
Christian glanced out the window of the carriage, which was plodding along slowly towards his new estate. The sun was beginning to set, colors and rays of sun playing across the clouds and horizon. He passed many large mansions as the driver directed the horses towards his estate. With the money he had made off of writing, he had been able to by a small estate. It was within walking distance of the school he was going to teach at. He didn't much care where he lived, as long as it had a roof, but Toulouse had managed to convince him to buy it.  
  
He just wants an excuse to take a vacation in the English country side, Christian thought wryly.  
  
He was jolted forward as the carriage hit another bump, and the cart stopped. Christian stepped out of the carriage to see the driver crouched down, looking at a broken wheel.  
  
"I'm terrible sorry, Mr. James. I'll go to one of the houses here and call for another carriage----"  
  
Christian smiled kindly and shook his head, stopping the drivers babbling.  
  
"I can walk the rest of the way Reynolds," he said cheerfully, "It's a lovely evening,"  
  
"I'll carry your luggage for you----"  
  
"No, no.it's alright. I don't have much," Christian said, "Do you need to have someone come pick you up? You can call from my house,"  
  
"Oh, no sir," the driver said, "I can take the horse into town. But thank you for your concern, sir,"  
  
Christian slung his bag over his shoulder, picked up his book, and the typewriter case, and headed down the dirt road towards his house. The sun hadn't yet set, and the orange glow lit up the fields of wheat and cattle grazing grounds. The other houses were getting farther and farther apart as he went on. He passed one large estate and looked it over with curiosity. There were a few servants on the porch, sitting and chatting. It was a very large mansion, and painted white. There was some artwork drawn on the porch's back wall, but he was too far away to see it clearly. Christian caught a flicker of movement from one of the upper rooms, and made out the figure of a man sitting near the window. He looked away, losing interest and continued on his way. A few moments later, a large, and rather hairy dog came galloping after him, appearing out of the woods near the estate. The massive animal was followed equally as fast by young man, who was obviously trying to catch it. The dog was coming straight at Christian, snarling, but as it got closer, it slowed, and walked up to him. Christian smiled, and held out his hand, and the dog, which seconds before seemed as though it wanted to tear his limbs off; sat next to him with an approving growl. It was a huge dog, about the size of a great dane, but longhaired. It was some sort of mix: between a Great Dane and an Australian sheep dog, perhaps. The young man slowed, looking at them with awe and curiosity.  
  
"I'm sorry about that," the man said contritely, close to babbling, "He always manages to get off his tether,"  
  
"It's alright. No harm done," Christian said, scratching the dog behind its ears,  
  
"He seems quite well-mannered too me,"  
  
"Well, don't let that deceive you sir. You're the only one I know of aside from little Miss James this mutt'll let get near him,"  
  
The dog growled, barring it's teeth at the boy, the went back to having it's ears scratched.  
  
"Miss James?" Christian asked, curious of this person who shared his last name.  
  
"She's the little girl who lives in that estate over there," the boy said, nodding to the large estate Christian had just passed, "Lives with her grandparents, I think. Or maybe her aunt and uncle. No one really knows much about 'em. An odd lot they are,"  
  
Christian shrugged, and reached down, picking up the dog's leash, and handed it to the young man.  
  
"Good luck in getting him home," Christian said, realizing that the animal offset the young man by a good 50 pounds.  
  
"I'm sure to need it," the man replied, lurching as the dog moved forward. Christian chuckled softly to himself, and continued towards his house in the twilight.  
  
~*~  
  
Kait sat on her bed, staring out the window. The first stars were beginning to appear on the dark, dark purple sky. She knew she really should be getting to bed, but the sky was so clear. Seconds later, Kait was seated in her window seat, looking up at the sky. A nighttime breeze floated in from the small window slits above her, the scent of flowers and wheat reaching her. Staring up, she realized she both hated and loved the nighttime. She loved the stars, the moonlight, even the darkness. But it gave her too much time to think. And the dreams..the dreams scared and confused her. Some were good dreams, even wonderful...all were filled with music, colors, fancy clothes, dancing..and her mother. At least she thought it was her mother. She was very pretty, and always smiling. But she remembered sadness...crying...anger...  
  
She had asked her Nana Marie and Grandpapa Harry about it, about her mama and papa, but they never seemed to want to talk about it. They always got a strange, sad look on their faces when she asked. Nana Marie said that they had gone away, and weren't ever going to come back. Some others, some of her friends who worked in the house said that they were dead. But either way, she had been told..either way, they weren't coming back. But her mommy wasn't the bad part of the dream, and neither was the nice, brown-haired singing man. The bad parts were the crying and the yelling. The two men...the two mean men. One was tall, a bald, giant of a man and the short, rat-like man with big teeth. And then...when mama fell and the singing man cried. That was the hazy part. She couldn't tell what was going on. All she remembered well was the music. The beautiful music she remembered, and heard everyday. She had never told her Nana and Papa about the dreams. She didn't want to make them upset, like they got whenever she tried to talk about Mama or Daddy. She really, *really* hoped they would come back...but everyone told her they wouldn't.  
  
It's best not to think about it, Kait resolved. But she still couldn't help but wonder....  
  
"Katherine?! Are you in bed yet?"  
  
Kait scurried back to her bed and got under the covers. Marie and Harry came to tuck her in and kissed her good-night, like usual. Soon she was asleep with music running through her head. Songs she heard as soon as she slipped into her dream world of colors, dancing, and sadness.  
  
*_My gift is my song...and this one's for you. And you can tell everybody, that this is your song. It may be quite simple, but now that it's done..I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind, that I put down in words... How wonderful life is, now you're in the world. I sat on the roof, and I kicked off the moss...well some of these verses, well they've got me quite cross. But the sun's been quite kind while I wrote this song. It's for people like you that keep it turned on. So excuse me forgetting but these things I do. You see I've forgotten if they're green or they're blue....anyway the thing is what I really mean.. yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen. And you can tell everybody this is your song. It may be quite simple but now that it's done.. I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind that I put down in words How wonderful life is now you're in the world. Hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind, that I put down in words... How wonderful life is, now you're in the world..._*  
  
~*~ 


	2. Chapter II

Hey folks. I'm really sorry I haven't written in a long while, but I've been here and there (Ireland) and lost my muse some where in Ballyvaghn. And I am currently trying to pass my college course. So please don't kill me! I hope this chapter makes up for that 6-month span where I didn't write. ;P  
  
Title: The Greatest Thing You'll Ever Learn  
  
Author: IrishRavenX  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own it. Nope. Any of the ones you recognize, at least. Ya know...the ones people made money off of. Money = Something I don't have. Sigh. Wish I owned Ewan McGregor, however I don't.... (!!!! Gets an idea of what to ask Santa for!!!!)  
  
~*~  
  
Christian set his briefcase down on the wood desk as Ms. Sullivan, the music director of the school, walked about the room, explaining schedules and details he needed to know about his job.  
  
"This room is connected to the auditorium, which I suspect you'll be using some of the time. But it's pretty dark in there, since the budget got cut back, and we have no spotlights and only a few overhead lights, so you might not want to teach all your classes in there. The piano in there hasn't been tuned in years, and no one but our resident ghosts play it.."  
  
"Ghosts?" Christian asked dubiously.  
  
"From time to time I hear someone playing the piano, and when I go in there, there's no one there. Any way, no one here can play the piano that well. In result, the students have attributed it to our ghosts,"  
  
"Ah," Christian said with a slightly confused look on his face.  
  
"Well anyway, I'll see if I can get someone down to tune the piano. Your performing arts students are the high school students, but you have music students as young as six or seven,"  
  
Ms. Sullivan turned back to Christian and rubbed her hands together.  
  
"Well, that's that, If you need anything, I'm at the end of the hall," Ms. Sullivan paused, giving him an odd look, "You look a bit young to be teaching, and to have all these references already. How old *are* you?"  
  
Christian smiled inwardly. Everyone told him he had aged well.but it didn't feel that way.  
  
"I'm nearly 30, Ms. Sullivan,"  
  
"Oh,"  
  
She hurried out the door, leaving Christian to survey the classroom he would be teaching in. It was the 2nd week of school, and the last teacher in his position had quit unexpectedly. Rumor had it that the students had pushed him over the edge. Christian hoped it wasn't true, for the sake of his own; already quite shaken sanity. He glanced at his watch and looked around the room again. It was 8:45. The students arrived in fifteen minutes. He walked back over to the desk and opened his briefcase. And so starts my first day of teaching. My God, what have I gotten myself into?  
  
~*~  
  
The bell rang, and Kait packed her books back into her bag and hurried towards her music class. It was one of her favorite classes of the day, even thought she had an idiot for a teacher. Mr. Thomas was most certainly the worst music teacher ever. She refused to do much of the work he gave her, because it was much below her level. Tasks such as, "Name the note", and "How many beats is a whole note worth?"  
  
But the final straw was when he put her in a 4th grade level class. He said she was too young to work with the older children. She knew her voice wasn't very good.but she adored music! How could he do that to her?! That was the turning point. Kait had been in the 8th grade level of music, under Ms. Sullivan's direct request. So Kait had set off on a quest to drive poor Mr. Thomas insane. Yes..it was a bad, nasty and mean thing to do. But still, everyday, she hoped it had worked, and he had finally snapped. She only did small things...moving classroom items, giving incomprehensible answers. She even got the entire class to nod their heads when answering *no*, and to shake their heads when answering *yes*. No one expected that a little eight-year old could wreak so much havoc on a teacher....But alas, her grades were suffering from it all. And still, it was her favorite class. Torturing Mr. Thomas was a most pleasant pastime activity. Kait turned down a dimly lit hallway, towards the music wing. The music program was vastly under-funded, so they cut back on the 'unnecessary' items, such as electricity and light bulbs. Kait walked into the auditorium, where her class had been told to meet. She pushed open the heavy door, and entered the massive auditorium. There was only one person there, a man dressed in a woven, tan wool sweater and dark blue trousers. He was pacing around the stage, leafing through a leather-bound music notebook. He looked up when the heavy door closed, and noticed her standing there.  
  
"Hello," he greeted.  
  
"Hello," Kait replied. She observed the man for a few minutes before speaking again, "Who are you?"  
  
"I'm the new music teacher," he replied, "Christian James. And who would you be?"  
  
"I would be Katherine James," Kait said, "But all my friends call me Kait."  
  
"Well it's nice to meet you, Kait," Christian said cheerily, "It seems we have the same last name. I hope it won't get too confusing,"  
  
"I doubt it," Kait said dryly, taking a seat in one of the padded chairs of the auditorium. *** Christian's smile didn't fade, but a confused expression did come over his face. This girl, who looked as if she was nine or ten, seemed to have the air of someone many years older. But that seemed only to be an illusion, or at the least a very good act.  
  
"You're not going to be as mean as Mr. Thomas, are you?" Kait asked, breaking the silence.  
  
"I didn't know Mr. Thomas, but it's my plan to be as civil and kind to my students as possible,"  
  
"I like that plan," Kait replied energetically.  
  
"Tell me, Kaitlynn, how old are you?"  
  
"Eight. Almost nine," Kait said proudly, "But I skipped a grade. I'm in fifth now,"  
  
"And why did Ms. Sullivan put you in the 4th grade level class for music?" asked Christian.  
  
"She didn't," Kait muttered, "I was in the 7th grade level class, but Mr. Thomas said I didn't belong there because I was so young. But I'm pretty sure I can sing well. Ms. Sullivan says so,"  
  
"Well we'll see about that," Christian said with a smile, breaking off the conversation as other students began to enter the room.  
  
Kait observed the new teacher as more students entered the room. He was really nice, so she hoped he wouldn't become like Mr. Thomas. It would be a pity to have to drive him loony.  
  
"Good Morning class," Christian said, sitting on the edge of the stage with his legs dangling off, "I'm Mr. James, your new music teacher,"  
  
This seemed to get the attention of the fifteen or so students in the room.  
  
"I've just moved here from a town near Paris, where I've published a few books, written and directed a few musicals; and lived for the past.almost ten years," Christian said this, keeping a smile on his face, but inside he felt the slight twinge of pain that came whenever he brought up his past, "So my expectations of you may be a bit higher than you're used to, but I think we'll be able to get along without any violence."  
  
There was a collective laugh from the students, and one of the students raised his hand.  
  
"How did you get stuck teaching here, Mr. James?" a boy asked amusedly.  
  
"Stuck? I'm enjoying this job. But I do suppose it's early yet," Christian said with a smirk, "Getting back on subject.I don't know any of your voices or ranges, so this first class is going to be devoted to musical exercises that you will be singing up her on stage."  
  
A collective groan went around the auditorium as the students heard this.  
  
"I expect all of you to be professional and courteous about this, alright?"  
  
There were some dim mutters of agreement.  
  
"I can't hear you,"  
  
"Yes, Mr. James,"  
  
He called the first victim up on stage, and the rest of the class began to talk among themselves.  
  
***  
  
"Hey shorty,"  
  
Kait glanced over her shoulder to see three older boys seated behind her.  
  
"You still in this class? Why don't you go back to the sand box with the rest of your little friends?"  
  
Kait didn't reply, only looked straight ahead, trying not to let them get to her, as they usually did.  
  
"You never sing what Mr. Thomas gave you to read? Why is that? Can't you read music?"  
  
"I can read fine," Kait said with a low growl, her eyes lit with anger, "I was just given degrading, monotonous children's songs to sing, such as 'Row, Row, Row your boat,'. Now can you see why I didn't want to sing?"  
  
"Whatever you say, shorty,"  
  
Kait turned back around with a sigh. Some people.  
  
~*~  
  
Christian smiled at young Willian Becker encouragingly, though in his ears, the young child's voice sounded like fingernails on a chalkboard.  
  
"Katherine James," Christian called, looking at the class roster. The young student got up, and walked up to the stage. He would now see about her singing voice, and was quite prepared to be disappointed. Children seemed to have a tendency to blow things way out of proportion, such as their abilities. But she didn't seem overly sure of her voice.  
  
"Here you are," Christian said with a smile, handing Kait a piece of music.  
  
Kait looked over the sheet before beginning. She hoped she would do well. Some times when she sang, it was like something different took over her body...she felt at home..like there was some one there protecting her...  
  
"As the walls are closing in And the colors fade to black.. And my eyes are falling fast and deep into me.. And I follow the tracks that lead me down And I never follow what's right and they wonder sometimes when they see all The sadness and pain the truth brings to light.."  
  
Christian stared at the young, raven-haired girl, blinking hard, trying to figure out if he was dreaming, or imagining, or *something* out of the normal was going on. He had just handed her a song he had written right after Satine's death, one that he believed would be mutilated horribly by this young girl. But this young girl-----Kait, her voice was beautiful. She could project, her voice didn't waver..it sounded so beautiful..  
  
"Cause I can't see no reason... What is blind cannot see.. Cause I want what is pleasing, all I take should be free What I rob from the innocent ones, what I steal from the womb.. If I cried me a river of all my confessions Would I drown in my shallow regret."  
  
"As the walls are closing in, and the colors fade to black. and my eyes are falling fast and deep into the sea. and in darkness all that I can see, the frightened and the weak are forced to cling to the mistakes they know nothing of at mercy are the weak."  
  
"Cause I can't see no reason.what is blind cannot see.cause I want what is pleasing.all I take should be free.what I rob from the innocent ones.what I steal from the womb. If I cried me a river of all my confessions. would I drown in my shallow regret."  
  
Kait finished the song, and looked to Christian for some sort of sign. He was currently staring at her with an eyebrow raised in curiosity, which made her worry that she had done badly. She had added some extra notes she thought would make it sound better, some grace notes and trills. "That was amazing, Miss James," Christian said finally, after having snapped out of his trance, "Could you please stay after class? I need to speak with you further," Kait nodded, and handed the paper back to him. She returned to her seat, a bit puzzled. She had probably done horribly. Ignoring the muffled laughter coming from behind her, Kait sat back and listened to the rest of the students.  
  
~*~  
  
The rest of the students performed their pieces, but none of them could compare to the young girl who had gone before. He found his mind drifting from the students, and glancing over at Kait, who was looking around the room, as if her eyes couldn't find an interesting place to focus. The young, dark-haired girl had the voice of an angel.the sort of voice he had only heard once before.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~RING!!~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The bell rang, and the class quickly dispersed, trying to get out of the dim auditorium as quickly as possible. Kait lingered back, watching Mr. James as he put papers back into his music notebook.  
  
"You wanted to talk to me, Mr. James?" she asked.  
  
"Yes, I did. Come over here," Christian said, motioning towards the stage.  
  
Kait walked over, and Christian looked at her, thinking for a few moments before speaking.  
  
"How old are you again?"  
  
"I'm eight. I'll be nine next week,"  
  
"Your voice is amazing," Christian said after a pause, "Would you be willing to stay here this period? I have some other material I want you to try to sing,"  
  
Kait nodded, and Christian jumped back onto the stage and walked into the connected classroom.  
  
"Just wait there," he said before disappearing. Kait glanced around the stage, and her eyes falling upon the violin case lying on top of the piano. She usually took the liberty of playing the piano when no one was around, but this; this was the chance at a new and interesting instrument.  
  
She put down her books, and took the case down. She had played the violin a few times, and had the gist of it, but this would be a trial run.  
  
Kait opened in carefully, and after looking at it for a few moments, she took it, but her chin on the chin rest, and began to play. Her first note was a terrible screech, and she shuddered. But after a few more tries, she got a surprisingly good sounding note. She picked up a piece of paper that was lying in Mr.  
  
James's open music notebook, and placed it on a stand. The paper had lyrics, and Kait looked at them as she played. She could almost imagine people dancing about the stage as she played. It was a sad and angry piece of music, very powerful.  
  
Something about a man being driven mad by jealousy. In the side space it said something about a tango going on during it, with various dance moves.  
  
Kait got so into the music she didn't realize that Mr. James *still* hadn't come back after fifteen minutes. Placing the music and the violin back in their places, Kait picked up her notebooks and hurried out the door. She didn't want to be late to her English class if Mr. James wasn't coming back anytime soon. He would understand.  
  
~*~  
  
"And you know how some dancers can be," Ms. Sullivan laughed, "So I told the little girl that show business would be such a bloody awful business to get into. Wouldn't you agree?"  
  
Christian smiled distantly and nodded, but inside he was about ready to tear the woman's throat out. She had been constantly flirting with him since he had gotten here, and was inadvertently bringing up topics he would much rather *not* talk about.  
  
"Well, I must be going. I have a student waiting that I need to talk to," Christian said, desperately trying to get out of the conversation.  
  
"Have a troublesome student already?"  
  
"No, no. Not at all. She's actually an astoundingly good student for her age. For any age, actually,"  
  
"Ah, Katherine James, perhaps?" Ms. Sullivan asked.  
  
"Yes, that's her," Christian replied, "She seems unusually talented,"  
  
"Yes, she is----"  
  
Ms. Sullivan paused, listening.  
  
"Do you hear that, Mr. James?"  
  
Christian listened closely, and the sound of a violin began to filter into the room. A violin playing a very familiar song.  
  
"Your famous ghost?" Christian asked with a laugh. But then his smile faded. The music was being played better than he had heard in a long while. It was the Tango the Argentinean had first sung as a suggestion for the new ending all those years ago, and this was the first time he had ever heard anyone play it so well since then. Christian rushed back towards the auditorium, but only to find it empty, with the violin back in the place he had left it.  
  
The door across the auditorium slammed closed, and he sprinted over to it, and into the hallway, but the halls were empty. He returned to the dimly lit auditorium, but almost slipped on a notebook lying on the floor. He reached down and picked it up. He looked around the auditorium again, but there was no one. Without a second glance, he took it back into his office and tossed it onto his desk, and went back to the stage. The notebook slid to the floor as a gust of wind pushed it, falling open to a beautifully ordained page of a red windmill, lighted in the darkness of a large city, with a beautiful woman standing on top of it, her red hair highlighted by the lights.. 


	3. Chapter III

Hello hello. I actually posted another chapter :gasps of surprise:  
  
Author: IrishRavenX  
  
Disclaimer- I don't own this. Never will. Baz owns it all.('cept my created characters) But I can wish, right?  
  
Feedback: Pleaseeeeeeeeeeeeeee! I wish to have reviews..feed my ego, please!  
  
  
  
Chapter III  
  
Susan McRoberts pushed the cart of medications down the whitewashed hallway of the Paris-General hospital, stopping at every room to check on the patients. She came to the last room, and the most depressing of her entire shift of sick and disabled patients. She opened the door, and in the bed was the young woman, staring out the window as usual. No one knew her name, and no one asked. She had been there for nearly nine years. She had been sick long ago, but now by all accounts was in good health. Physical health, that is. Mentally.no one knew. The woman just stared out the window, ate, and slept. Her face was pale, and she was very frail. But her hair.her hair was red. It used to be a brilliant red, shining with the sun, but now it seemed dull. Susan adored the woman's eyes..when she smiled, which was very, very rare, her eyes would light up, and the cloudiness would clear. But that never lasted long. Sometimes during Christmas, when the carolers came into sing, she would seem to have focus. But rarely.  
  
"Hello, Miss," Susan said with a warm smile, setting some food beside her, "Is there any thing I can get for you,"  
  
The woman didn't respond, and Susan only smiled. She never did respond. She cleaned away the morning's barely-touched food tray and changed the bed sheets as she always did, then walked towards the door.  
  
"Nurse?"  
  
Susan jumped at the sound of the soft, melodic, though hoarse voice. She turned to see the woman, her eyes focused on her.  
  
"Yes Miss?" Susan tried not to stumble over her words, but this was thoroughly startling.  
  
"Could I perhaps have the song bird from downstairs in the lobby where they usually take me in the wheelchair? To keep me company? It gets so lonely up here.." the red-haired woman whispered.  
  
"I don't think they allow animals in the rooms...I'm sorry,"  
  
"Oh," the woman nodded, her gaze growing distant again, and turned her head to look out the window again.  
  
"But I'll see what I can do," Susan assured her quickly, sad to see the woman's sorrow appear in her blue eyes again. She had never spoken to Susan before, and she didn't want to discourage her.  
  
The blue eyes lit up again, and the smile appeared.  
  
"Thank you so much, dear. I used to have a song bird, you know.but that was before I lost them all. my little one...and my angel of music...." Susan nodded, and walked from the room. The woman wasn't all there in the head..but at least she was talking.  
  
Ooo another piece to the puzzle. I'm not sure where I'm going with this....so feed back would be good. Please? 


	4. Chapter IV

Disclaimer..check a former chapter. I'm tired and I want to go to bed.  
  
Hey folks. Sorry I haven't posted lately. Been out of the country. The one place in the world Americans can't go. It was fun. ;P  
  
Thanks for all the reviews!!!  
  
And on another note, I know I'm making Christian seem a bit daft, not being able to tell that Kait is his own child, but keep in mind that's he's trying to forget the Moulin Rouge, Satine, and his life there. Explaining mental thought process of Christian: even if he does sense something odd, he tosses it aside like some misplaced memory that trying to forget consequently brings up.  
  
So with that, I give you:  
  
  
  
Chapter IV  
  
A week later (a week later than what? Hell if I know..I'm not keeping track any more..):  
  
Christian sighed. His school teaching experience had been bearable so far. He wasn't complaining. Children, though annoying beyond belief at points, always had interesting view to bring to the classroom. Katherine James was definitely one of those interesting ones. She was quiet during class, not talking to anyone else, though did occasionally answer questions Christian had asked the class. He hadn't had an opportunity to hear her sing again lately, though, which disheartened him a bit. Her voice was spectacular for that of an eight-year-old. And she seemed so damn familiar..Christian shook his head of the thought. He needed to forget the de ja vu. It was over, and he needed to stop seeing connections wherever he went.  
  
Christian looked out the window and onto the playground. Kait was sitting on a rickety swing, staring off into the distance. He was looking forward to meeting her parents that week, at the open house. He wanted to express his compliments on what a lovely child they had raised. The bell rang, and for once, Christian didn't jump out of his seat. He was slowly settling in, it seemed..normal..a normal life..finally..  
  
~*~  
  
Kait stepped out onto the schoolyard, suppressing a sigh. This was her least favorite time of day. The time where she would go sit on the swings, all alone, and watch the other kids play with their friends. She was the youngest kid out there during the 5th grade recess, and no one wanted to play with her. And she had lost her notebook. She was very upset about that. It was the one thing that made recess bearable, she could draw in the solitude of the swing-set.  
  
But not today.  
  
Kait sat down on her swing, slowly going back and forth, looking out past the playground and to the mountains in the distance. It was such a big world..she wished to see it all..but for now the view would do. Kait continued in her reverie until something obstructed her view of the beautiful scenery. Kait looked up. This obstruction turned out to be the body of a fifth grader. Ray Dierd. "Hey squirt. Whatcha looking at? Ya' never seen the damn sky before?"  
  
"What do you want?" Kait asked.  
  
"Just the pleasure of your company," the boy said, then pretended to ponder a thought, "Oh yeah, and your lunch money,"  
  
Kait sighed. This was a common occurrence.  
  
"Sorry, I do not have any,"  
  
"Yeah, sure ya' don't. Hand it over, squirt,"  
  
"Go some where far away, catch a disease and die," Kait muttered under her breath.  
  
"What was that, pipsqueak?"  
  
"I said, go away please. I don't feel like fighting with you over this,"  
  
"Tough,"  
  
Ray pushed her back, and she fell off the swing. She calmly got up and dusted the dirt off her clothes, and began to walk away.  
  
"Hey, freak, I'm not done with you," Kait kept walking, ignoring the jest.  
  
"What, ya' going to run home and tell your mommy?" the boy called. No response. A malicious grin came over the Ray's face, and he yelled to Kait's retreating form.  
  
"Oh wait.I forgot. You don't have a mother. Or a father. They must have thought you were too much of a freak to be their child, and ditched you with the circus freaks you live with,"  
  
Kait froze in her tracks.  
  
"Uh-huh, just keep walking, freak," the boy was encouraged by the audience he had drawn, "Go home to your French circus freaks. Maybe they'll let you join the carnival. Or not. I mean.if your own parents abandon you, why would anyone else except you? Guess they didn't love you. Now you're just a bastard freak."  
  
Kait turned around, her eyes growing dark with anger. With a growl, she lunged at Ray, and knocked him to the ground, and started pummeling him. She was smaller than the Ray, but her fists hurt.  
  
The Ray was covering his face from Kait's fists, but suddenly, the onslaught stopped. Kait struggled against the person pulling her away, growling ferally.  
  
"KAIT, stop,"  
  
She glanced up to see Mr. James holding her back.  
  
"Let me go!" Kait demanded, still struggling to get at Ray.  
  
"Kait, calm down!"  
  
"Yeah, you freak," Ray muttered.  
  
"That's enough from you, Raymond. I'll deal with you later," Christian said darkly. And at that, he half-carried half-dragged a screaming, kicking Katherine James into the school.  
  
"Get back to your studies," Christian sternly commanded the children leaning out the windows to watch the brawl. They quickly complied and with one last glance to the silent schoolyard, Christian pushed Kait inside the school.  
  
  
  
~*~  
  
Okay, I'm approaching a writer's block. I just see it hovering on the horizon.  
  
Any way, I've figured out how to explain most of the stuff I need to have about Kait, and what the hell's going on, but it's going to involve some slight manipulating of the original "Moulin Rouge", or just adding a bit of time to the original story. Don't kill me!!!!  
  
::Ducks flying objects and livestock::  
  
Thanks for the reviews, everyone, they really help.  
  
-irishRavenX 


	5. Chapter V

Author: IrishRavenX  
  
Title: The Greatest Thing You'll Ever Learn  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine. Nope. No sire. Never will be. Nope. Not a chance in hell. It's all Baz's, that lucky bastar...Baz-ard...But...but...I want Ewan!!! My Precious!!!! Must find Precious...they have stolen him from us ... yes.....Shmegal must help to find Precious... Hehe. I'm all right! (A/N: Don't write disclaimers at 3 am.)  
  
Other disclaimer: I wish to say that I do not own Lord Of The Rings either...J.R. Tolkien has the main dibs. (I could theoretically keep going with quotes from other movies; but this entire chapter would be disclaimers...)  
  
Author's lame excuse: That writer's block is circling with the Jaws theme in the background. Feedback is well liked, and may help with that pesky WB.  
  
It'll help me buy a bigger boat. So...review!!!!!!!!!!!! PLEASE!!! Hehe. I'm okay. Just insanely tired.  
  
And so, with no further babble, I give you:  
  
Chapter V  
  
After some amount of struggling down the hallway, Christian managed to get Kait under control. The girl was very stubborn. Finally he got to the office, dropped her inside, and stood in front of the door, blocking her attempt at exit.  
  
She then rushed towards the window.  
  
"Kait," Christain commanded, "Sit."  
  
With a sigh, Kait brought her leg back inside the building and closed the window. Kait sat down in the chair in Mr. James's office and crossed her arms, glaring at him.  
  
"What do you think you were doing out there, Katherine?" Christian asked. He had seen the fight, but was curious to know what the boy had said to get her so angry. She didn't seem like a "randomly-beat-the-crap-out-of-people" sort of child.  
  
"I was losing my temper, and attempting a murder, Mr. James," Kait said coldly.  
  
"Why?" Christian asked simply.  
  
"Because he called me a bastard freak, because I live with my auntie and uncle," replied Kait irritably.  
  
"That's no reason to pummel him!" Christian exclaimed, "You could have gotten hurt! You're supposed to come straight to a teacher if some one is bothering you."  
  
"He's a big boy, Mr. James, he can take care of himself," Kait said softly.  
  
Christian looked at her with and doubtful look in his eyes. Kait's glare soon disappeared, and the hurt flooded into the beautiful blue eyes.  
  
"He said that my parents didn't love me...and that's why they abandoned me. But they didn't!" Kait exclaimed, "They loved me a lot...but they just had to leave..."  
  
Tears threatened to spill from Kait's eyes as she bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling.  
  
"I'm sure they did," said Christian, unsure how to continue in a way that wouldn't upset the poor girl further. He did not believe himself to be the parenting type "Who couldn't love such a perfect little girl like you, Kait?"  
  
Kait looked up, tears streaming down her cheeks. It looked like nine years of a little girl's pent up emotions were spilling onto the floor of his office. Wrong thing to say? Christian suppressed a grimace.  
  
"I'm not perfect. I'll never be perfect. I'm an ugly little cretin. They never say that...but I know that's what they're thinking. I'll never be like my mother. Uncle is so proud of her. 'Oh, she's so much like her mother...what a voice...just like her...too bad she didn't get her mother's hair...'," Kait sighed deeply, blowing the strand of dark hair from her eyes.  
  
"I think your hair is beautiful," Christian said, then looking up at his own hair, which almost reached his eyes, "But I'm a bit biased with the colour, I suppose,"  
  
Kait laughed slightly, though tears still ran down her face.  
  
"I just wish..." Kait stopped and met Christian's gaze for the first time that day, "That I could be a hero like my daddy and sing lullabies with my mommy...to meet them...and have them be happy to see me...and tell me they love me..."  
  
Kait looked past Christian and out the window.  
  
"I wish I could be normal,"  
  
Kait and Christian stared at each other for a few moments before Kait got up and dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief.  
  
"I have to go now. I want to find my notebook before I have to go to art class,"  
  
Before Christian could say a word, Kait was out the door, and he was left staring after the girl that seemed to share his own goal. Normal. What was normal? Having a life where people didn't go off and die on you. Christian closed his eyes and sat back in his chair, pondering these things. A few moments later, he practically leapt up in surprise, and looked to the door Kait had left through.  
  
Why the hell did she seem so familiar?! Was it her eyes? Her hair...the hair...red hair...singing...there was something irking at the back of his mind...what...what...  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~RING~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Christian was jolted from his thoughts by the bell. He shook his head and sighed, rubbing his face in frustration. There's no use looking for connections that aren't there, or you're likely to die a more unhappy man than you are now, Christian. He picked up the sheet music he needed and walked towards the auditorium for his next class, walking past an sketchbook hidden underneath his desk...  
  
~*~  
  
Kait sat on a bench in the front of the schoolyard, waiting to be picked up. She saw Ray standing on the steps of the school, and narrowed her eyes as he began to walk towards her. Well, limp towards her. Great, again they meet. Ray really, really didn't like to be showed up in front of his peers, and Kait presumed that he especially disliked being beaten up by a small girl, such as herself.  
  
"Hey squirt, I think we got some unfinished business,"  
  
"Raymond, give it up,"  
  
"What, ya' wimp, scared?"  
  
Ray shoved her against the bench, and she felt her back crack. And it hurt. A lot.  
  
"Ray, go away, please,"  
  
Ray smiled. Finally, she was getting scared. But then Kait smiled, as if she found something amusing.  
  
"What, freak? Find it funny that I'm gonna pummel you?" Ray laughed pushed her again. That's when he realized there was something blocking out the sun...  
  
~*~  
  
I'm sorry I made Christian rather daft again. Forgive me. He won't be as daft soon, once he decides to get over himself and decides to become attentive to his surroundings again. Hehe.  
  
In other news: Want more? Well, I want reviews. Think we can reach an agreement.  
  
::Ducks livestock and household objects again:  
  
;P Call it a problem if you wish, but....but...I'm a ham for reviews. I admit it. No shame.... Hehe. Now that we have that behind us, I'll try to post as soon as I can. Exams this week. Arg. I'm going to attempt sleep now. Wish me luck. ;P  
  
Slan agat!!! 


	6. Chapter VI

Title: The Greatest Thing You'll Ever Learn....  
  
Author: IrishRavenX  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine. But you already knew that? What? You enjoy rubbing that in?! HUH!?! Hehe...  
  
Author's note: Writers block vanquished for the time being. But I still want reviews...please? That shark is still out there some where, and I still need to get a bigger boat. ;P  
  
  
  
Chapter VI  
  
Christain watched Raymond push Kait, and started across the schoolyard, hoping to prevent another fray like the one at recess. But then he stopped, watching as Raymond was lifted up by the back of his collar, and brought face to face with a giant of man. The black man flashed the boy a wide smile, then put him down and gave him a pat on the head. Kait stood up and cast Ray a look, which if looks could kill; Ray would be a dent in the brick wall of the school. The black man picked up Kait's fallen books and took her hand, then they started towards an automobile parked on the grass.  
  
Christian watched this all in amusement, as Ray quickly found somewhere else to be. He watched the two walk off, looking fixedly at the large black man. Had he seen him before?  
  
Now what did we say about trying to find connections in things that aren't there, Christian?  
  
He shook his head, as if to clear the mere idea from it, and went back to grading papers.  
  
~*~  
  
"Thank you, David," Kait said with a bright smile. Everyone else called David "Chocolat", but he confided in Kait that he like his real name better.  
  
"No problem, my dear," Chocolat said, taking the young girl's books.  
  
"I got in trouble today," Kait said, her smile fading, taking Chocolat's hand.  
  
"Oh really?"  
  
"Yes. The boy you picked up..."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Well...I hurt him at recess,"  
  
"Did you, Kait? Why?"  
  
"He called me a bastard freak. And he called you and the others circus freaks. And I got really mad...so..."  
  
David stopped walking and looked to Kait.  
  
"Miss Kait, you never need to stand up for us like that," Chocolat said, "We've dealt with insults before, and Kait, just ignore what they say. People are afraid of what they don't understand, and to some extent...we deserve it."  
  
"Nobody deserves to be called a freak," Kait said, looking up at David's sad eyes, "Except maybe me." Chocolat stopped walking towards the car and again stopped, looking intensely at Kait. Kait suddenly found the ground very interesting.  
  
"Never say that about yourself, Kait. Ever. You are a very special girl, and you've persevered through so much. More than you could ever imagine, dear Katie.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
A kind smile came back over Chocolat's face, and he started walking towards the car again.  
  
"I'll tell you later, Miss Kait. We must get back to the estate. Your uncle will become worried."  
  
"He's so overprotective," Kait sighed, getting into the car with Chocolat's help.  
  
"For good reason, Miss Kait," Chocolat murmured, looking over his shoulder at the nearby cars, looking for one that looked a bit too expensive for the likes of the local towns folks.  
  
Chocolat got into the car and started the engine. As they pulled out of the parking lot, Kait turned to Chocolat and looked at him inquisitively.  
  
"David, could you tell me the story of the evil maharaja, the sitar player and the beautiful courtesan again?"  
  
"Of course," Chocolat said, looking at the young girl. She knew so little of the story of her parents, and he would occasionally drop her hints. Kait was a smart little girl, so tried to get the most she could out of David information wise. But also, she loved just hearing the stories.  
  
"Once upon a time, there was an evil maharaja, whom we will call 'Evil Duke Richard' for the purpose of this story...."  
  
  
  
~*~  
  
Marie walked through the restricted portion of the upstairs hallway, occasionally dusting off the pictures and memorabilia she passed. Harold complained of that, saying that she should leave it to the maids, but she just kindly dismissed his protests. It was the only time she got to spend there, looking at their pasts. The pictures of the Moulin Rouge, the workers at that dreadful night club...the night club she had come to call home.  
  
She came to a table where some pictures sat, a picked up one of the frames. It was her favorite picture of Satine. She was wearing her red dress, and holding a black rose. She was so happy. Marie remembered that the picture had been taken while Christian was with them for that year. He had been at the Moulin for a little under a year, and he had changed it more than anyone had imagined, in all the years it had been operating.  
  
And no one was complaining about the change of scenery, of course, except for perhaps Harold. He liked being rich, famous and successful. The others didn't agree with Harold's theory...especially since they had been the people he was getting rich and famous off of.  
  
"Auntie!"  
  
Marie turned to see Kait standing in the doorway of the dim hallway, and she began walking towards her.  
  
"Kait! What are you doing in here? Shoo, shoo!" Marie said, waving the feather duster frantically. It was quite a funny sight, really. It would be much more amusing if yelling didn't bother Kait as much as it did.  
  
Kait quickly closed the door and ran off to another part of the house, leaving Marie in the darkened hallway with her memories.  
  
~*~  
  
Susan McRoberts watched as the red-haired woman stared out the window of the day room. Other patients with various problems wandered around the room, playing board games, table tennis, or just staring off into space. Susan had been assigned to the day room for the day. Might as well make some friends. She started towards the woman, laughing softly to herself. Making friends on the mentally disturbed ward. That said a lot for her. But this one woman...she didn't seem like the normal patient. The doctors said there had been brain damage during the coma, but the woman was quite aware.  
  
"Good Afternoon, Miss," Susan greeted, sitting in the chair across from the red-haired woman.  
  
"Good morning, Nurse McRoberts," the woman replied.  
  
Susan was surprised. The red-haired woman had continually grown more and more talkative over the past few weeks. And apparently more observant. Susan glanced down at her nametag, which stated that her last name was McRoberts.  
  
"Just call me Susan. Good morning Miss..."  
  
"You may just call me Lynn, mi'dear,"  
  
"Alright, Miss Lynn. Would you like to go for a stroll through the courtyard?"  
  
Satine turned to look at the nurse and smiled. Such a considerate woman, this nurse was.  
  
"I'd enjoy that, Susan," Satine said. She had decided to use her middle name. She wasn't entirely sure where she was, when it was, or how exactly she got there, but she did know that she wanted to be safe. And to keep her secrets safe.  
  
Susan returned with a wheel chair, and Satine stood and got into it. Her legs were fine, but the doctors didn't want her walking about too much, until they figured out a way to treat the consumption, or; tuberculosis, as they called it. They said it was a miracle she had lived, then that it was a miracle that she had awakened from a coma. So how come she didn't feel so lucky, or miraculous, for that matter?  
  
"So where to, Miss Lynn?"  
  
"Any where you wish to go, Susan," Satine looked out into the fresh air, and took a cautious breath, "Are there any songbirds out here?"  
  
"Why yes, of course. I hear them every morning when I arrive to work."  
  
"Oh, that's wonderful. I really do like to hear them sing."  
  
They walked through the courtyard, and Satine closed her eyes, listening to the birds.  
  
"What type of music do you like, Lynn?" Susan asked as they strolled into the fresh air.  
  
"Any kind, really. I love to sing,"  
  
"Do you? I've never heard you."  
  
"I haven't sung in long time, now. I don't know if I still can," Satine said quietly.  
  
"Oh, I'm sure you can, Lynn. You don't seem like the type to give up,"  
  
"No, I'm weak, Susan. Christian....Now he isn't...wasn't...isn't the type to give up. I just wish I knew..." she drifted off into thought.  
  
"Christian?"  
  
Susan smiled. It seems the former "Jane Doe" was beginning to remember some things. She wasn't going to let her stop at that. This woman obviously had a colourful past, and Susan wished to uncover it.  
  
"Yes. He had the most wonderful voice. And his spirit...it seems unstoppable. And as I said, he never gives up."  
  
~*~  
  
  
  
"I give up," Christian muttered to himself, listening to the children recite Green-sleeves. These children were in eight grade, and hadn't the faintest idea what a quarter note was. Let alone an E flat. Christian winced.  
  
After a few more moments of listening to the attempts at singing, Christian sighed. I suppose I really do have my work cut out for me here.  
  
"Okay, class, that's a wrap for today."  
  
The children gratefully dispersed and some of the sheet music floated to the floor as the children abruptly left. They most certainly seem eager to learn, all right. Christian mused sarcastically.  
  
He walked around the stage, picking up the discarded pieces of paper. Then it hit him. The thought that hits all people who attempt to teach small children things they need for later life.  
  
Why am I here? Christian walked back to the piano and sat down. What had possessed him to go into teaching, anyway?  
  
Christian rubbed his face, and leaned on the piano, trying to remember.  
  
  
  
"You've got to go on, Christian."  
  
"I can't go on without you."  
  
"You've got so much to give."  
  
Satine.  
  
Her dying words to him.  
  
He stood up, looking round the empty auditorium, hearing the echo of voices long past in his head. He jumped up onto the stage and stared out into the empty audience, then onto the vacant stage, visions of long ago clear as if he was standing there, all those years ago.  
  
It seems as though it had taken him eight years to figure out that it was indeed time to move on, though it had been lay before him all that time ago. He was here to give. To teach the talents he knew, to help others. To help others, to make their dreams come true.  
  
Christian looked down at the papers in his hand, to the class schedule beside him, then to the clock.  
  
He had a total of 22 free class periods a in a five-day,-eight-period-a-day week. And he had an hour and twenty minutes left to fill out the papers to become that part time creative writing English teacher the school needed.  
  
He'd better get started.  
  
Seconds later, the theatre was empty.  
  
  
  
~*~  
  
Hey folks. There's some interesting things unfolding in the next few chapters, things start coming together in the story. Open house...parent teacher night...less mind dulling medication for Satine...yeah. Should be interesting, eh?  
  
I hope to post more soon, but I have a rather lengthy paper due next week, and I haven't really...well...started. Perhaps more reviews will bring the next chapter to a higher priority. Blackmail, you ask? Such a blatant term, but yes it is blackmail. More reviews equal sooner post. Hehe. Call me evil if you wish, but the review part of my ego is saying "FEED ME!" !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!- (for emphasis).  
  
Slan Agat!!!  
  
-irishRavenX 


	7. Chapter VII

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Well...that's not the exact way to put it, but I trust you can figure it out. Anything you recognize...it ain't mine. Anything you don't recognize...it's mine, or you haven't watched the movie enough times.  
  
Another note: Soooooo much thanks to you, ObiMcGregorFan (I don't remember your real pen name, feel free to correct me. I could not have continued without the constant reminders, and many of the really good ideas. Yes, really, really good ideas. So I must give her much of the credit. Thank you thank you.  
  
Feed back: Yes please!!!! I've only been able to get around to another chapter because I've had all you helping me along, and encouraging me!! A special thanks to: Ix Kara xI, Katie, BeetleBon99, Tani, and Lady Jade. I couldn't have done it without you. And a big ol' thanks to everyone else who has reviewed, and especially ObiMcGregorFan!!!!  
  
Author's pathetic excuse: I'm sorry!!!! Don't hurt me!!!! I've been really really really really busy (and a bit lazy...a bit...) but either way, I've finally updated, and would appreciate it if I was not killed for the great delay. (Especially since I would like to finish this story, and being killed would be quite bad for that process.)  
  
And without any further rambling...I give you...  
  
Chapter VII  
  
Kait finished the last brush stroke and stepped back to look at her artwork. The set of the play was finished down to the last detail, except for the buttons on the suit of the man in the sitar. And the faces. The set was elaborate, but the faces of the people were not clear. She had tried to the best of her ability, but she could not remember the faces. She remembered the eyes.the hair.the cruelty..the love. Nini, David.and a few of the others were in the pictures, as well as some of the others from the estate. She had seen it once in the "forbidden hallway", but Kait felt as though she had seen it previously, but now it seemed like only a dream.  
  
With a sigh Kait put down her paintbrush, and looked at her dress. Using a paintbrush never seemed to do her much good, since the majority of it usually got all over her clothes and hands anyhow.  
  
She walked over to the waterspout, and washed off her hands, and tried to rub some of the stains out of her dress. It didn't really matter. She had many dresses. Kait wondered why she had so much when others had so little; David said that it was because they were rich. But that the money they had was stained red with blood. She didn't know what that meant, but it didn't sound at all good. The laughter of her peers brought Kait back to reality. Kait looked around the classroom, at all the other children laughing and talking, and having an overall good time. As usual. And she just sat in her little corner of the room and painted. But she did have people to talk to, they were just quieter than the others during class. Kait turned to look at Jillian and Desmon, who were silently painting their works of art.  
  
Jillian was a girl, three years older than Kait, who had dark green eyes, and auburn hair. She was from Scotland, and her voice was heavily accented. She actually knew more Gaelic than she did English, and so, people wouldn't speak with her unless they had to. Jillian was a very interesting girl, who was fluent in five languages, and knew bits of at least five more.  
  
Desmon was a short Argentinean lad, who was also quiet, but unusually smart for his age.  
  
"I like your painting, Kait," Desmon said, looking at his friend's artwork, "It's very articulate. Eloquent."  
  
Kait just laughed. He used large words on a regular basis, which sounded so odd coming from someone of his...height.  
  
"Thank you Desmon," Kait said, "I like your picture too."  
  
"Jillian.what are you drawing?" Kait asked, sitting back and enjoying her spare time.  
  
Jillian gave a shy smile, and brought the brush across the paper again.  
  
"_Un portrait d'un très bel homme_" Jillian said in French, "A portrait of a very handsome man."  
  
Kait leaned over to look at the picture Jillian was drawing and giggled.  
  
"_Vous le trouvez attrayant?_" Kait inquired after viewing the picture of Mr. James, "You find him attractive?"  
  
"_Oui,_" Jillian replied, then continued on in her heavily accented English, "Do you not?"  
  
"Of course not. He's a teacher. And he is old." Kait said. And seems far too familiar, now that it's mentioned...  
  
"You are just too young," Jillian sighed, sitting back and looking at her masterpiece.  
  
"So they all say," Kait sighed in turn, for quite different reasons.  
  
~*~  
  
"Marie, she is too young!!!" Zidler exclaimed, "She cannot know. It is too dangerous!!!"  
  
"She is nine years old in two days. Nine years, and she has seen neither her mother, nor her father."  
  
"Christian does not know she exists, and Satine..." Zilder paused, and quieted his voice once he realized everyone in the house had stopped at the sheer volume of his voice, "And you know that Satine has fallen into a sleep that she cannot be waken from."  
  
"A coma," Marie corrected.  
  
"As I said...Kait wouldn't understand."  
  
"Harold, do you see what she writes? Do you see what she draws? Do you hear what she sings? Kait was born ready to know her past, but conditions prevented it. Kait is a Bohemian in the true sense of the word...don't you see? The older that child gets, the less prepared for it she will be."  
  
"Just one more year," Harold begged, "Give it one more year."  
  
"That's what you said last year!!!" it was Marie's turn to yell, which was not an often occurrence, "You keep putting this off, when you know it must happen eventually. She will grow up! You cannot hide her from her past forever! We are old, Zidler! Eventually, her past will come around and slap her in the face, and I want to be here to tend her once it does." Marie fell silent.  
  
"We are old," she said, this time her voice softer, "And I do not expect the others to care after Kait after we are gone. I don't want them to have to. We have all been through enough. This would be that ray of sunshine that us creatures of the underworld need in our lives. Kait is a miracle. Miracles should never go to waste."  
  
Zidler had begun to pace around the hall, rubbing his bearded chin thoughtfully. The servants stood in various locations, up on the stairs looking down, in mid-dusting stance of some of the statues they had about the place.  
  
"I won't permit Kait going now," Harold said after a few more minutes of pacing, "But you may go to see Satine if you wish."  
  
Marie gave Harold a look that could chill ice; then walked towards the staircase.  
  
"Be back in time for the open house, Marie. I do not wish for the teachers to become curious as to Kait's family, and we most certainly don't want anyone to discover anything about Christian..."  
  
"Who's Christian?"  
  
Harold nearly jumped into the air at the innocent question. He turned to see Kait standing near the door, with David behind her, suddenly looking very nervous.  
  
"Hello, my pet!" Harold greeted loudly, pretending as if he didn't hear, "How was school?"  
  
"Grandpapa...who is Christian?"  
  
~*~  
  
Christian stared at the papers sitting on his desk. So many papers...so little time.such an urge to procrastinate...Christian finally gave into his compulsion to neglect the papers, and stood up, walking about the room. He knew he needed to work...but that's what his sleepless nights were for.  
  
He walked out onto the stage and paced across the wooden floor, his shoes clanking on the surface. He glanced at his pocket watch. A quarter to five. Christian stopped pacing and looked out to the empty chairs of the auditorium.  
  
If he looked hard enough, he could see the retreating form of a small, rat- toothed man...  
  
"Mr. James? Are you still here?"  
  
Christian leapt at the sound of Ms. Sullivan's voice, and decided to make himself scarce. He walked briskly back to his office, scooped up whatever papers were closest to him, and headed for the door at a pace close to a sprint.  
  
"Ah, there you are, Mr. James!"  
  
Christian suppressed a sigh, and turned to look at Ms. Sullivan.  
  
"Oh, hello, Ms. Sullivan. I'm sorry, I am just leaving..."  
  
"Oh, no problem at all, Mr. James, I was hoping to catch you before you did. The Principal is going to be out of town for a week or so, and he wanted you to cover."  
  
"Me?" Christian asked, almost dropping his papers.  
  
"Yes. You will still be teaching your regular classes."  
  
"Alright." Christian started to open the door.  
  
"He left instructions on his desk. Be there at seven o'clock sharp," Ms. Sullivan said.  
  
"Right," Christian said, beginning to exit the room again.  
  
"Christian, would you like to go out to dinner tonight?"  
  
Christian froze.  
  
"Uh...um..." Christian paused, and just laughed at himself, "Thank you for the offer, Ms. Sullivan, but...I'm...I'm not up for it tonight."  
  
"Oh, alright," Ms. Sullivan said, obviously disappointed.  
  
"But you might want to ask Mr. Galliger. He was going to go out tonight, and I think he's like some company..."  
  
"Oh really?" Ms. Sullivan inquired, then, after pondering the thought for a moment, walked back towards the door to the hallway.  
  
"It was nice talking to you, Mr. James. Be here bright and early tomorrow."  
  
Christian quickly backed out of the room, and started towards his house, which was only a mile or so away. The weather was still very nice, though the cold of winter was approaching fast. Christian's mind wandered back to his encounter with Ms. Sullivan, and he stopped walking, staring straight ahead. Why had he not accepted the invitation? It was obvious that Ms. Sullivan liked him, and she was nice enough...he looked out at the mountains, and the sky, in which the sun was just beginning to make its decent.  
  
He was still in love.  
  
He tried to fool himself. For nearly nine years, he had been trying to trick himself into believing that he was over her. Over Satine. But it hadn't worked. It had come back and slapped him in the face. And it hurt. Christian continued walking, his stride much less confident that it had been before, he walked looking at the ground. He hated when this happened. It had happened a few years ago...something reminded him of Satine, and it did some horrible things to him. But not this time...he wouldn't start down that road again...that dark, dark road...  
  
~*~  
  
"So, Miss Lynn, how are you?" Susan McRoberts asked, looking at the red-haired angel. A good colour had returned to her skin, and she no longer looked so sickly.  
  
Satine did not turn around, only kept staring out the window.  
  
"Miss Lynn?" Susan called again.  
  
Satine was jarred out of her trance, remembering that she had told them only her middle name...for safety precautions...  
  
"Yes, Susan?" Satine inquired.  
  
"How are you fairing today?"  
  
"Quite well, and you?"  
  
"The same," Susan sat down beside Satine, and looked out the window at the setting sun, "Except something is puzzling me. I just got a call a call from a woman, asking about a woman named Satine."  
  
Satine stiffened, and hoped that her reaction wasn't too visible.  
  
"She seemed very concerned. Marie Zidler, was her name, I believe. I wish I could so something to help her, but we have no one here named Satine."  
  
Susan looked over to the red-haired woman, seeing if this news got a reaction from her. "Lynn" was only silent, staring out the window.  
  
"Did this Marie woman say why she wished to know?"  
  
Susan suppressed a smile at "Lynn" 's question.  
  
"She wanted to come and visit."  
  
Satine turned and looked at Susan, her eyes full of emotions, so many, Susan could not tell in the least, what was going on in that red-haired covered head. Some odd mix between severe sadness, loss, confusion, and pain.  
  
"Why?" Satine asked softly, looking at Susan, her beautiful blue eyes full of pain and memory.  
  
"She wants you to go home with her, Satine," Susan said, putting a hand on Satine's shoulder for reassurance, "She wants you to come home..." Marie walked into the room, and Satine looked over her shoulder to see what Susan was looking at.  
  
"Marie?" Satine asked incredulously, it was as if she was merely having another one of her dreams, that someone just walked in the door to tell her... 'it's all right now...you can have your life back, Satine.you can have a normal family and a normal job...a normal life...'.  
  
"Marie!" Satine exclaimed again, and sprang up from her chair, walking swiftly towards her, at least swiftly for her present condition.  
  
"My dear," Marie said happily, though it was obvious she was under great pressure.  
  
"It's been so long, Marie...too long..."  
  
~*~  
  
A/N: Whew. I tied up some ends, but I did leave you hanging, I know. I shall try to update as soon as I can, but I am still amazingly busy. I would drop some of my activities to pursue my writing, but I would be in danger of having friends and co-workers hunting me down and causing me bodily harm. Which would be bad for me. I'm sure some of you would find humor in it though...actually, I would find humor in it...t'were it no I being the one injured...getting a bit off topic...  
  
Any how: I shall try to post more soon. All feedback, reviews, comments, questions....obscenities are much appreciated, and just may help me get the next chapter up sooner.  
  
Slan agat!  
  
-IrishRavenX 


	8. Chapter VIIIhow many is that?

Author: IrishRavenX  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine. Nope. I wish it was. Yep. Yep I do. 'Cause then I'd be rich...an'...an' I'd be able to be near Ewan McGregor, an'...and...well, Many other things would be special. But unfortunately, what you recognize from the movie is not mine. Never will be...but no use crying over it, I suppose ::sniffles::  
  
Feedback: Yes, please, please, please. Si, por favor. Ja, bitte. Tak, prosze. Ndyo! Oui, Merci. How many other languages can I say it in? Hebrew.Russian.Irish.unfortunately, one I have forgotten the spelling of, and the other two fonts aren't on this computer. So there we are. Any way, now onto the...  
  
A/N: I'm pretending that Christian was around for a good 9 months during this thing. Time doesn't work out exactly in my mind, and it would do well for you not to think too hard about it. :P  
  
Author's lame excuse: It's a long chapter 'cause I don't know when I'll be posting again. I have a project due, and I'm bout to take a crash course in editing a VHS. Fun fun. Enjoy the story, I'll make some more excuses afterwards. And now..without any further commercials, I present...  
  
Chapter VIII  
  
Christain stared at the bottle of Jameson's whiskey that sat before him on the table. If they were having a staring contest, the whiskey was definitely winning. If they were having a battle of will power..well, the bottle was winning that one too. He had promised that he wouldn't drink any more. No. He would not live out his days being a hopeless drunk. He was a teacher! But on a second thought, the Principal was a drunk..  
  
Christian sat upright in his seat. Which reminded him. He was filling in for the principal. And still teaching his classes. He couldn't be drunk for that, now could he? Well...he *could*...  
  
He slapped his face with a great amount of force. It did a surprising amount of good.  
  
Christian quickly snatched up the bottle, and shoved it into a cabinet. Out of sigh...hopefully out of the mind...  
  
~*~  
  
Marie quickly pulled the clothes from the suitcase she had brought with her, and handed them to Nurse McRoberts.  
  
"Madam Zidler, the doctor specifically said that he does not want Satine to leave. He said that someone is coming to see her now that she has awoken.apparently someone of rather high status."  
  
Marie froze, staring at Susan, then cast a glance to Satine, who paled at the news, and walked over to the window, staring out at the landscape.  
  
"Then we must do more that hurry," Marie said, "Give that to Satine. And pull the hat down to cover your face, Satine. We must go quickly...he is coming...he is coming..."  
  
"Madam Zidler, what are you talking about?"  
  
Susan just stared at the elderly woman, wondering about Marie's current mental condition.  
  
"Satine, dear...you need to come with me now," Marie said gently, shaking her shoulder.  
  
Susan watched Marie, the desperation in her speech, her movements, the overall fear emanating off of her. Whatever had spooked this woman, it was definitely something serious...a force to be reckoned with.  
  
"Come now, Satine," Marie murmured, moving her away from the window,  
  
"You'll be safe with us. You're coming home...little Kait will be so thrilled."  
  
"My little angel...how is she?"  
  
"She's the brightest little thing...she had her father's hair, and the voice of an angel. Such a talented girl,"  
  
"Does she know..."  
  
"No. She does not."  
  
Satine didn't know whether or not to breath a sigh of relief or to cry. Her little girl did not know the true history of her mother, of her father...and she believed her true parents were dead...how would she take it when she returned? She dared not to think about it. Or about Christian...where was her love. Hopefully still alive...Christian took to the bottle when he got depressed, as she had learned before...Christian had not known about Kait, who was born barely two months before the premiere of the show.  
  
The child had been premature, and Satine had barely shown during the eight months. Everyone who knew believed that the child would have died within days...but here it was...almost nine years later...and soon she would be reunited.  
  
~*~  
  
Kait stomped up the stairs, very upset with her Grandpapa. He never answered her question. He only said that Christian was a friend of the family who died a long time ago. It was very upsetting. She hated not knowing what was going on, but her grandparents told her that it was necessary for her to be kept in the dark about some things. That they would tell her when she was older.  
  
Kait ran to her room and pulled open the door of her closet, and came out a few moments later, after some amount of rummaging and crashes. With some amount of strain she pulled a chest from the closet, and sat down on her bed. She lifted the heavy lid, then pulled the first layer from it, revealing an array of memorabilia and pictures she had found in the attic a few years ago.  
  
There were the pictures of the people and places she saw in her dreams, and quite a few things she could not figure out. There were a few pieces of wood, polished into plaques. They had all different sorts of things inscribed into them.  
  
"Sa and Ch till the end of time" "My Gift is my Song" "I only speak the truth" "Today is the day when dreaming ends. 25th of January, 1902." "The Show must go on" "Beauty Freedom Truth Love" "You can't fool the Children of the Revolution" "Until the End of Time" "The greatest thing you'll ever learn is." The lower portion of the plaque had been broken and Kait had never been able the rest of it, to her dismay.  
  
Kait placed them all aside, ignoring the nail that had dug into her skin. She assumed that the plaques had been hung somewhere, long ago. Where, she wasn't sure. But the red windmill was the only place that she could think of. She wished she could have remembered more about the place...  
  
Her granddad said that Kait had a very good memory. The very short woman who worked as a servant for them, Jacylen, or China Doll, as Nini sometimes called her; called it 'Photographic", which apparently meant she couldn't forget things. Kait hunched down on her bed. But she still couldn't remember where her art notebook was.  
  
With a sigh, Kait lay down and closed her eyes, her dreams taking her to a world of music and beauty, known as the Moulin Rouge.  
  
~*~  
  
Christian walked up the steps of the school, dreading the day before him. It was a Friday, he would give it that, but that did not improve things much. He was filling in for the principal, which mean he was now responsible for the entire school. All 87 small, screaming, and slightly demonic children. Scratch *slightly*. They could be little bastar...little demons when they put their minds to it. And Friday had a tendency to multiply the basta...*demon* factor in them by hundreds.  
  
But, he could theoretically barricade himself in the principal's office, as the true principal usually did. And he could drink...Christian stopped and mentally slapped himself. He would have physically done so, but he had the feeling it would disturb the staff and students, and make them question his already moot and...well...questionable state of mind.  
  
He opened the door of the school, and turned to look at the empty school yard, imagining the throngs of children which would soon appear. _Bring it on._  
  
~*~  
  
Susan helped Marie get Satine situated in the carriage, wondering all the time what exactly had Marie so worried.  
  
"Marie, what is going on?"  
  
"I must get Satine away from here. The Duke is coming."  
  
Susan looked to Satine, who was looking very pale.  
  
"Satine is not ready to leave, Marie, she is not fully recovered."  
  
Marie looked from Satine to Susan, the former of which who squeezed her hand weakly.  
  
"Then you must come with us, Nurse McRoberts. You can come with us and care for Satine," Marie suggested hastily.  
  
"But...I don't have anything packed. And my job..."  
  
"We'll pay you!" Marie said, "And we can purchase anything you need."  
  
Susan looked from the carriage to the hospital, feeling as if she was coming apart at the seams, being pulled in two...what should she hold more important? This woman, obviously in need of help, or a job she is not content with?  
  
She looked to Satine, who was looking at her with a pleading look in her soulful blue eyes. With a deep sigh, and many second thoughts, Susan jumped into the carriage, closing the door behind her.  
  
~*~  
  
Kait ran down the steps of the school, twirling around triumphantly. It was Friday afternoon. Friday...fridayfridayfridayfriday...a wonderful, wonderful Friday. Kait didn't know why she was in such a good mood...aside from the mere fact that it was indeed a Friday, and that on Friday afternoons, her grandpapa let David take her into the City. Kait loved the city. It was bustling and full of activity and life. Everything you passed by had its own story...every person had a history...  
  
And even better...she got to visit the bookstores...and the art museum. The guide at her favorite museum was very nice. He gave her a special tour. When she had first asked, he was really snobby, but then David pulled him aside and talked to him for a few minutes...and suddenly the guide became really nice...  
  
"Katherine, what are you doing?" Ms. Sullivan asked the twirling girl as she went around in circles on the lawn.  
  
"Why, Ms. Sullivan, can't you see the young girl is twirling?" Christian asked, leaning against the wall of the alcove leading to the front door of the school. He jumped down the steps and onto the lawn, joining Kait in her twirling.  
  
Ms. Sullivan just walked away, not gracing his reaction with a comment.  
  
Soon Kait fell onto the lawn laughing, taking Christian down with her. Christian lay there, looking up at the sky, listening to Kait and his own laughter. It felt good to laugh. The laughter died away, and after a few moments of silence, Christian stood up, and helped Kait do the same.  
  
"I like to spin," Kait stated, brushing the dirt off her dress.  
  
"I noticed," Christian chuckled.  
  
"My mother used to like to twirl. My nana said that Mommy liked to dance."  
  
Christian watched the young girl's eyes cloud, getting a far off look in her blue eyes. Suddenly those eyes seemed so, so familiar... Kait went over to sit on the bench and sighed heavily.  
  
"You're here rather late today, Kait. Where is your ride home?"  
  
"I don't know," Kait replied, resting her head in her hands, "David is probably having some problems with the car."  
  
They sat there in silence for awhile, and finally Kait turned to Christian and looked up at him in curiosity.  
  
"Mr. James, can you tell me a story?" Christian looked at Kait and smiled.  
  
"Stories? Well, Miss Kait, that just happens to be my specialty," Christian smiled even brighter.  
  
"And it happens that I have just the perfect story."  
  
"Once, a long long time ago, in India, there was a beautiful ..courte.princess. She was the most beautiful princess in the land, and had a voice like an angel. Her eyes were..." Christian looked to Kait, who was looking at him intently.  
  
"..as blue and beautiful as yours, Miss James. And she had the most brilliant, shining red hair. But one day, an evil maharajah took over her kingdom..."  
  
Kait interrupted "And then she had ta' make him believe she loved him, but she really loved the penniless sitar player (though David told me that he was really a writer) and the evil duke...maharajah found out, and they got upset, but love concurred all in the end."  
  
Christian just stared at Kait in amazement.  
  
"How did you know that? Did you read a book about it?"  
  
"A book? No, no, David told me about it, though my Grandda didn't want him to."  
  
"Kait!"  
  
Christian looked up to see a man standing across the street next to an automobile. A very large black man, with an all too familiar smile plastered on his lips.  
  
"Hello David!!!" Kait called, waving, "I have to go, Mr. James. See you on Monday." Kait grabbed her bag and began to go towards David, "Oh, yeah, when is open house?"  
  
"Er...Wednesday," Christian replied, slightly dazed.  
  
"Thanks, Mr. James!" Kait yelled, sprinting towards the car. Then she stopped again.  
  
"I also think I forgot my notebook in your music room. That's the last place I remember having it after I played that really nice violin. Could you find it for me? Thanks!" Kait's words were very rushed, and Christian's brain froze trying to follow them, unable to reply.  
  
Kait dashed the final three yards to the car and David took her bag, put it in the trunk of the car, and opened the door for her. They took off down the road moments later, leaving a very perplexed Christian standing next to the bench in the front yard of the school.  
  
"Wha...?"  
  
Five minutes later, Christian had managed to come to some sort of rational about what had just taken place, and was on his way to his office to lock up. and to find a notebook????  
  
~*~  
  
Author's Note: No open house yet, folks. Sorry. I don't rush through these stories. But it is coming soon, very soon. I'm trying to wrap things together. Hopefully it will work. ::hops about:: As I said before, I don't know when the next posting will be. But I'm sure that some reviews will help me speed my updating...yes...that will do nicely...::Evil maniacal laughter::  
  
While you're at it, I recommend that you Witchblade fans check out the story I put up in honor of April Fools day. Muahahahahah!!!! :P 


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